


Return to the Alley of Dangerous Angles

by brightephemera



Series: No Identification Provided [9]
Category: Planescape: Torment
Genre: Ambush, Angst, Arson, Body Horror, Burning, Burns, Deja Vu, Gen, Violence, caster supremacy, fire mage, sigil (Planescape: Torment), valley of dangerous angles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-16
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 20:41:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 524
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22761853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/brightephemera/pseuds/brightephemera
Summary: The Nameless One is close to answers about his mortality, but idiots in the Hive never get less pushy.
Relationships: Fall-From-Grace & The Nameless One, Ignus & The Nameless One
Series: No Identification Provided [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1474778
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Return to the Alley of Dangerous Angles

The Nameless One had done the current gang in the Alley of Dangerous Angles a favor. In fact, he’d put them on top. So he was more than a little surprised to note three humans and a bulky tiefling creeping alongside his party, keeping to the shadows of the haphazard alleyway that had been rebuilt with more expeditiousness than expertise.

Nameless had a job to do. He had nearly cracked the mystery of Ravel Puzzlewell whose cursed Art had stolen his mortality. The Lady’s maze had dealt with her a long time ago. Nameless had been mazed once, and he sensed that given food or a suppressed appetite he would have survived indefinitely. A night hag of the power required to suspend Nameless’s mortality would surely still be alive. Still be waiting.

The four fools darted toward Fall-From-Grace, who was trailing the rear.

Shit. Nameless didn’t have time for this. Even as Fall-From-Grace turned Nameless strode back and made a shoving gesture. All four attackers staggered. Oh, yes, he could thank Mebbith for Mage Hand.

He heard it beside him. “Foolssss…”

Did Ignus even remember this place he had gutted? He’d shown no sign during their approach. But at that moment, with these concerns on his mind, Nameless was delighted to let him return to form. “Do it,” he said.

Ignus drifted above the ground, insulated only by the charm Nameless had set to prevent spontaneous fires near his crackling, oozing skin. He angled and floated. The attackers were trying to flank Dak’kon and Annah.

The fire roared like a second annihilation. Second verse, same as the first.

Ignus’s hands were up, streaming flames. Dak’kon leaped back, seeking to block the worst of it with his battle-bright _karach_ blade. The thugs had even less defense. Their clothes burned. Their hair burned. Their flesh burned. Nameless’s friends formed a grim circle, and in the center nothing survived.

“Enough,” said Nameless.

The mage stopped, and let his hands fall. “Memoriessss…wass I here?”

“In another life.” Maybe the madman remembered as little of that as Nameless himself did. Ignus had more continuity but considerably less comprehension. “Come.”

Morte sounded behind him. “You know I’d almost forgotten what homicide felt like? It’s been hours.”

But it was Fall-From-Grace who came to walk beside him. “Another clean sweep,” she said. “Have you no other use for such as these?”

“They’re rabble, and I don’t have time.”

“I think you’re expending considerable effort to remove people you could as easily dismiss.”

And let more people know where he was going and who he was traveling with? Nameless rounded on her. “Fall-From-Grace. Do you trust me?”

She looked pale, and beautiful, and troubled. “I believe I do. Based on the way you were when we met, I do.”

“Then believe that I’m doing what I have to do.” And no thief, no gang, no city was going to bar his way.

The others were gathering around, forming points on a troubled figure of angles and smoke. Ignus spat something half-liquid and foul-smelling. “Why…sssstop?”

“Because I said to,” said Nameless. Didn’t that count for something to her? “Enough. We’re going.”

**Author's Note:**

> I actually wrote this for Annah, then decided that her anti-Ignus sensibilities weren’t as significant as Fall-From-Grace’s interest in the variety of life. It’s tough when your only Good-aligned character is Morte.
> 
> The thought of Nameless’s necessary turning point weighs heavily on my mind. Because “hurls himself into the area between Paranoid and Practical” is a trajectory, but it’s not by itself a super interesting one. Something must shake him. Something must make or break faith. Something must force him to stop reacting and start feeling. Ravel? Or something else? Someone who isn’t shackled to the past? Whose torment can transform instead of just dragging? 
> 
> This is what I think about in the months between updates.


End file.
